Life happens. You laugh about it or cry about it, sometimes both.

Goodness

by judy on April 18, 2016

On Saturday Jeremy and I attended a wonderful event presented by Marriages of Grace, a Northeast Ohio local non-profit organization devoted solely to promoting the sacrament of marriage and supporting the enrichment of marriages in the area. The event theme this year was “Marriage, Mercy, and the Martins” since this is the Year of Mercy as declared by Pope Francis, and Louis and Zelie Martin were recently canonized saints, a married couple canonized together. The Martins were the parents of Saint Therese of Lisieux, who you may have heard of.

We learned about the Martin family, and their story offers much to encourage any married couple in the pursuit of holiness. They each had wanted to join religious orders, but it didn’t work out. Later, they met by chance while walking around their town where they lived, fell in love, and were married. They had nine children all together, though four of them died during infancy. All the remaining children became nuns. The example of this holy family is inspiring to any family that wants to grow in holiness.

At the event, we also heard Philip Keller speak about crossing the line that most people don’t even know exists. The line between thinking like a human being, and thinking like God. The Martins crossed that line. They lived their lives according to what God willed; they made choices and decisions based on what is good and right, and benefiting to others above their own personal desires. We are all called to do the same. We are invited to turn our hearts over to God and accept his will to work through our lives. How do we know when we’ve crossed the line? Keller says you start to see little miracles everywhere–you see the hand of God where you would have missed it before. You start to notice communications that you sense are coming from the Holy Spirit. You become sensitive to when angels or the Holy Spirit are close to you, inviting you do this or that so that something greater can then take place. Keller’s talk was very inspiring for me. I want to be holy and I want to cross the line. I spoke to him at one of our breaks and asked him what I should do first to start crossing the line.

Here is where the story gets interesting. As he was talking to me, I realized that maybe I already have. He asked me if I experience some of the things he spoke about, and I said, sure, all the time. He told me I’m already across the line, but the real trick is to stay there. I didn’t tell you this before, but Philip Keller is legally blind, and has been for almost 20 years. He is closely involved in a miracle healing ministry, and I’m sure he himself has prayed many times for healing, yet he still cannot see. His faith inspires, despite his weakness, maybe because of his weakness. In any case, he was “looking” at me as we spoke and he told me “You radiate goodness.” Gosh. That is honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. It reminds me of an occasion about a year ago when a lady told me she could sense something about me that put me in tune with the spiritual, and when she learned about Agnes, she understood why that was. I just remembered that. Anyway, he told me “You radiate goodness.” So sweet, but also really powerful.

Radiate goodness. First, what does that mean? My first thought is saints are depicted with halos and that imagery must come from somewhere. Second, is this a temporary state that comes and goes, or do I have it all the time? I was feeling pretty holy at that Marriages of Grace event, but I don’t feel that inspired all the time. Do I radiate goodness when Stephen is being kind of irritating and I’m trying not to be snippy with him? Do I radiate goodness when I’m grocery shopping? Third, well great now I have a reputation to uphold. Thanks a lot Mr. Keller. Now I have to be a good person all the stinking time.

But seriously. The other keynote speaker at the marriage event–Jim Hogan, a high-school theology teacher–spoke about “free gifts,” and how even gifts come with a cost. The cost is prorated depending on how awesome the gift is. A pair of hand-knitted socks is pretty good, but you have to make room for their bulk in your drawer, and commit to special laundering so they don’t fall apart. A “free” vacation is really awesome! But you may have to pay your own airfare to get to the vacation, arrange for child care for your kids you leave behind, miss out on the family or social events you would have attended if you stayed at home. We are happy to pay that cost, because the gift is so good. Hogan went on to say eternal salvation is the most awesome gift there could ever be. The cost? Giving your life over to God and living a life of self-sacrifice and mindfulness of God’s will. We are happy to pay that cost, because come on. Eternal. Salvation.

Philip Keller’s remark to me is an awesome gift, but it comes with a cost, too. It would be really easy to feel puffed up and prideful (Sweet! Holy Blind Guy Thinks I Radiate Goodness!) but that cannot happen. I must remain humble. I am happy to pay the cost of humility, the cost of striving every day to stay on the “thinking like God” side of the line, the cost of being openly faithful and joyful in my faith despite my own weakness. It is a pretty hefty cost, fitting for such an awesome gift. I am willing to do it so that I can continue to be radiant with joy. Despite my weakness. Despite the trials. Despite the multitudinous opportunities in my life to practice humility and patience. I must need a lot of practice, because I get a lot of those opportunities.

Saint Baby Agnes, pray for me so that I may continue to live on the side of the line that puts me closer to the hearts of Jesus and Mary, closer to the promise that one day I may join them and you at the heavenly banquet.

2 responses to “Goodness”

Beautiful, and I believe also that you radiate goodness. There’s a lot here to take in, but on the subject of the difficulty of being good and staying on the right side of the line, it reminded me of Jeremiah 20, 7-9. I hope it’s appropriate.